Stalling
by wp1fan
Summary: GS Orangutans, confrontations, restroom stalls, and toilet seats...any questions? Response to a challenge.


Title: Stalling  
  
Author: wp1fan (Ann)  
  
Disclaimer: Not my characters. But they'd make a good Christmas present...  
  
Summary: This is my response to a challenge issued by Mossley. The first and last sentences, must be the ones used...everything in the middle is up to the author. I, however, failed this challenge. 1. It was due yesterday. I'm slow, what can I say? 2. I'm over the 1,000 word limit by about 500. Slow and longwinded, that's me.  
  
*A BIG thanks to Kris and Mossley for beta-ing for me. Any mistakes left are solely mine.  
  
"That's an orangutan," Grissom stated.  
  
"Not just any orangutan," Sara stressed, sliding the folded newspaper further across his desk and indicating with her finger that he needed to read the article. "It's Othello. He's famous," she added with a smile.  
  
He shot her a strange look over the top of his glasses before focusing on the small print underneath the picture. 'Local Favorite and Trainer Missing From Zoo', was enough to quell some of his confusion, but he skimmed the small article anyway.  
  
"Foul play?"  
  
"Could be. Don't know yet."  
  
"Why haven't I heard about this?"  
  
"It's dayshift's case."  
  
"Oh," he paused, only continuing when the confusion once again began mounting. "Then why am I hearing about it now?" Even though his desk served as a barrier between them, she was still close enough to rattle his mind and his body. He hoped that his nonchalant response might serve to piss her off just enough to get his comfort level back.  
  
"Because...," she retorted haughtily, perturbed that he was so willing to dismiss her. Despite his dumbfounded jaw-drop when she once approached the subject, the truth was that he would and does punish her professionally for a mistake she made personally. She huffed again before continuing. "I have reason to believe that this case might be directly related to one you and I worked last week."  
  
"Hm."  
  
Despite his casual response, Sara could see his wheels turning. They had worked only one case together last week, and it was eating at him that he couldn't form an immediate connection. A grin slowly crept upon her face as he opened his mouth to speak.  
  
"Have you spoken to Conrad about this connection?"  
  
The grin immediately deflated.  
  
"Nooo," she drawled. "I wasn't aware that Ecklie was my immediate supervisor. Did I miss a memo?"  
  
"Sara..."  
  
The warning in his voice didn't go unnoticed, but she pressed on, ignoring it. "You know, I'm not sure that would surprise me, really. It's been a long time coming, hasn't it, Grissom?"  
  
"I'm not sure I'm following you," he lied.  
  
Standing, Grissom moved to circle his desk, but was met halfway by an angry Sara invading his personal space.  
  
"That's bullshit, and you know it!"  
  
Her finger stabbed at his chest repeatedly, and her hot breaths hit his face with each heavy exhalation. He took a moment to notice the quickening of his own pulse and breathing, but doubted that emotions factored more than proximity in those sudden biological changes.  
  
"You...you...," Sara stuttered, wondering just what boundaries she was willing to cross by confronting him.  
  
"I, what? Tell me," he whispered, egging her on. An irrational part of him hoped that if Sara just got everything out, it would all blow over. Or maybe that wasn't it at all. Maybe he just needed everything out in the open. If she revealed something, wouldn't that force him to do the same?  
  
"You're...not worth it." Her voice fell so soft that, if it weren't for the look of hurt upon his face, Sara might have wondered if the words even escaped her lips at all.  
  
But they did.  
  
And seeing him now, standing there as if everything she said suddenly mattered to him, was killing her. Of all the times for him to listen...  
  
He stood stock still as she retreated hastily from his office. The desire to slump back into his chair and will his migraine away was overwhelming. But the tiny voice in the back of his head - the one that rarely came out to play - was telling him that this was his last chance. Now or never. Too late... With her final words from months ago fresh on his mind, he flew out of his office in search of her.  
  
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*  
  
As he stepped into the ladies' restroom and locked the door behind him, he silently prayed that he wasn't pursuing a stranger. When he had left his office and immediately saw the restroom door slightly swinging, he followed his gut...and, hopefully, Sara inside.  
  
The observer in him began examining the room, pausing to take in the surprising cleanliness, before realizing that right now he wasn't a scientist. He was simply a man.  
  
He passed by the stalls, one by one, opening the doors just enough to rest assured that they weren't occupied. The last door he reached was locked, and faint rustlings and sniffling could be heard within. Grissom braced himself and rapped lightly on the surface.  
  
"Someone's in here."  
  
"Can I come in?"  
  
The sound of his voice shocked her. Even though he couldn't see her, she immediately began swiping at her eyes, removing the fresh tears. The move proved futile as more followed closely behind those just blotted.  
  
"Wh—what are you doing in here?" Her voice registered her surprise.  
  
Sara undid the latch and cracked the door slightly, taking in the sight of him. She would have known his voice anywhere, but her brain seemed to be asking for more proof of his presence.  
  
Seeing the opportunity, he pushed his way into the tiny stall, forcing their bodies into full contact. "Sorry," he murmured, bumping her multiple times while trying to get the swinging door shut behind them.  
  
Meeting his gaze, Sara turned around quickly, hiding her red-rimmed eyes from his view. In a boldly uncharacteristic move, his fingers hesitantly ran the length of her hair, smoothing the dark strands between his digits. When she shuddered beneath his touch, he stepped closer to her, pressing his chest to her back.  
  
"Shh...please don't cry."  
  
She found herself unable to resist his warmth and scent and found herself leaning back into him, cradling her neck in the crook of his shoulder. "Mm...I'm sorry."  
  
"It's not your fault."  
  
"What I said back there...I didn't--"  
  
"I know I'm not worth it, honey. This is what I've been trying to show you for years. I'm not good at this. Any of it." He nuzzled her neck tenderly, planting a small kiss below her ear. "I don't know how to make you laugh. I don't know how to keep you from crying."  
  
"What about now?" she sniffled.  
  
"What about it?" His lips grazed her skin with his question, heating them both.  
  
"This is the 'you' that I...care about. The one who makes me laugh... The one who stops my tears..." She turned in his arms, thankful that he didn't release his grip on her. She pulled him into a possessive embrace, needing to feel him close to her. "Please stop pushing me away. Please. I need you in my life, if only as a friend."  
  
"Is that what you want?" His lips lingered at her jaw line, whiskers teasing her cheek.  
  
"You know what I want," she purred seductively.  
  
"Do I?"  
  
"What do you want?"  
  
Without warning, his lips were on hers, gently moving, pecking, experimenting. He tugged on her bottom lip, sucking gently, before fully capturing her mouth with his own. She gasped against him, startled by the hunger he was showing her. When she circled his waist, jerking his shirt from his pants, stroking the bare flesh of his back, he growled, slipping his fingers into her hair and his tongue into her mouth.  
  
After several minutes of passionate exploration, oxygen and composure were depleting, bringing Sara to her senses first. She smoothed his shirt back down, and he yanked her hips against his, sensing that the moment was ending and needing to feel her close to him.  
  
Her eyes widened in surprise at the large, hard bulge protruding from the area near his thigh.  
  
"What?" he asked, nervously, fearful that she had grown regretful.  
  
Sara slid her fingers below his waist, letting them dance along the front of his pants pocket. When her eyebrow rose curiously, realization hit him.  
  
"Oh!" Chuckling, he dug into his pocket, pulling out a jar of Red Creeper. Smiling salaciously at her fierce blush, he leaned in and whispered, "You're going to be very disappointed."  
  
She playfully slapped at his chest, inadvertently knocking the jar from his grasp. They both watched the crimson powder hit the back of the toilet before shattering, spilling the powder on all nearby surfaces.  
  
"Uh-oh." Sara grimaced, awaiting her reprimand.  
  
"C'mere."  
  
She shook her head, laughing, indicating that she wouldn't. When he caught her in the tiny stall, bringing her against him yet again, she received her "punishment". One kiss morphed into another; mouths moved over lips, cheeks, necks, and as far down chests as clothing would allow.  
  
"Gris-som?" Sara called out slowly, interrupting them yet again.  
  
"Hmm?"  
  
"Do you, by any chance, have another jar of Red Creeper on you?" she asked, pressing her hips to his.  
  
"Nope."  
  
"I am so not disappointed."  
  
Grinning, she maneuvered around him, opening the stall door and pushing him out. "You've got to get out of here."  
  
Sara smiled happily and bent down in front of the toilet, wondering how she would explain this mess to anyone who inquired. She also wondered if she has the patience to make it to the end of shift without being near Grissom again.  
  
Just then, the object of her thoughts popped his head back in the door.  
  
"About that orangutan..."  
  
Smiling, Sara shook her head as she dusted the toilet seat. 


End file.
